scraps and wounds
by Princessofspades12
Summary: One shot. rated M for self harm, blood, gore, and language.


One quiet hiss of pain could be heard through out the silence of the house. Tired red eyes watched as blood dripped from his arm, staining the hard wood floor. The glass slicing through skin was purely red now. _Filth_. He thought as he made another gash through his arm, watching as the heavy amounts of blood poured from his gaping wound. _Fucking filth. You don't deserve to live. You don't deserve anything. _The glass carved another line into his arm, making one letter. _M. _His shoulders tensed when he heard the sound of that old creaking door of his bedroom open.

He heard the pitter of quiet foot steps on the carpet. Fuck. Terezi was awake. There was the sound of the bathroom door being opened. He breathed a sigh of relief. She wouldn't catch him. Not right now at least. _But the blood..._ his mind reminded him. There was always the constant fear that he wouldn't be able to clean up the blood well enough and she might notice it on the floor, furniture, or most terrifying, his arm. There was of course that logical part of his brain that told him that wouldn't be such a bad thing. That if she found out, maybe she could get him into therapy, or counseling, or even manage to talk him out of it herself.

But it wouldn't happen. That one part of him that wanted her to know was over run by the fear of what would happen if she did. Would she hate him? Throw him out? Yell? Scream? Fight? Start doing this to herself? He couldn't risk any of it. But if he died, what would she do without him? That was probably the scariest to think about. Would she feel awful or upset? Or would she even care? She might be happy, or get over it quickly. She might think of him as another pest out of her hair.

He had to bite his lip to keep from screaming, not only from the excruciating pain in his arm, but also the disturbing thoughts running through his mind. Two more letters were finished. '_U' _and _'T'. _The heavy amounts of blood made it difficult to read, but he knew. The blood on the floor were in small puddles now, making it so some of it was sloshing in between his toes and making the floor slippery. He was sure that if he turned on the light it would look as if someone had just been murdered. Another letter was finished. '_A'_. Two more to go. Sometimes he wasn't sure how all this self loathing began. So many people told him that there wasn't anything wrong with him, that there were plenty of people like him. But in his own mind, being what he was was worse than death.

He hated being so vulnerable to small things. He hated having to cover up as he did, and most of all, he hated these fucking red eyes. _Freak._ He thought. _You're a freak. _It didn't matter how true that was, it was all he saw himself as. He was what he had carved into his skin, now for the world to recognize. _Mutant. _

He stared at the word for a moment, the blood running down his arm and dripping on the floor and his cloths, staining everything. He glanced at his other arm. Granted, he wouldn't be as skilled, carving a word with his left hand, but what did he have to lose? If anything, it would be better, more painful and jagged. More blood. Not that that was a good thing to anyone else, but to him it was perfect. A better way to punish himself. He began carving the second word. The cuts weren't as deep this time, but he had lost enough blood as it was. Of course, it wasn't as much as he thought it was, but it was quit a bit.

He had gotten two letters in when the light came back on and a scream was heard. He flinched hard enough to drop the shard of glass and let it shatter to the floor. He stared at it for a minuet. He heard her foot steps coming towards him. Her arms wrapped around his torso and she planted soft, sweet kisses in between his shoulder blades. He didn't move. She didn't talk. She unwrapped her arms from his body to move in front of him, looking into his face. She reached a hand up to touch his cheek. Her eyes looked so sad. She was on the verge of tears.

She gave him a soft kiss before looking at his arm. "Mutant?" She asked, barley at a whisper. He didn't reply. She looked at his other arm, only with the letters '_Al'_ on it. "This was going to say 'Albino' wasn't it?" She asked. Her voice was cracking and it was clear that she was going to cry. He barley nodded, not daring to look into her eyes. She clinged to him, her arms wrapped tightly around him, her body shaking and the tears soaking his shirt. He hugged her back, planting soft kisses on the top of her head. "Terezi..." He said. She tensed, not expecting the sound of his voice. "I'm so fucking sorry."

This just made her cry harder. "You have nothing to apologize to me for."

"I hurt you."

"You hurt yourself."

"Then why are you crying?"

"Because I can't lose you."

The words hung in the air. He couldn't believe that it was real. That she had said something like that. But the words kept coming.

"I love you. I don't want to live without you. I thought we would get married and have a family. Live in the suburbs with a white picket fence and two children. Isn't that the American dream? Don't we deserve it?"

Love? Marriage? Did she really want that? He had been wanting to propose, but the question of whether she loved him or not had always come up. Did she mean any of it, or was she just trying to make him feel better? He felt tears slipping down his own cheeks as he pressed another kiss to the top of her head.

"Yeah," He finally said, making her lift her head to stare at him. "You deserve everything you want. A family, a nice home, someone who loves you. You should have that."

She smiled at him through her tears. "I already have someone who loves me. So if I deserve that so much, why would you do this to yourself? Don't you want me to always have that person who loves me?"

He nodded, making her smile grow. "Yeah, of course. But not me. I don't deserve any of that stuff. And I definietly don't deserve you. You should have someoone better."

"I DON'T WANT ANYONE ELSE!" She shouted, pushing him away. "I DON'T WANT SOME TROPHY HUSBAND! ALL I WANT IS YOU, BUT I CAN'T HAVE THAT IF YOU KEEP DOING THSI BULLSHIT TO YOURSELF!" She held up his arm. The tears were spilling down her face, making to so she could barley see anything. Her shouts continued, but his ears felt numb. He couldn't hear her. "ARE YOU EVEN FUCKING LISTENING TO ME!?" No. "RESPOND! TALK TO ME!" She let out another frustrated scream until she finally gave up trying to talk.

She grabbed his arm, pulling it towards the sink and turning on the water. She ran the wounds underneath it. "I'm going to have to clean this out with soap." She mumbled. "It's going to sting." He nodded, not caring about pain. She rubbed the soap over his cuts, cleaning out the blood and any possible infection. He hissed at the pain, but did his best to ignore it. When she finished cleaning his arm, she wrapped his in an ace bandage and planted a small kiss on it. "Better?" She asked. He nodded.

"Please don't do this to yourself." He nodded again. Not that that was a promise he was planning on keeping, but he might as well let her hope.


End file.
